


Drift

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 13:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5709574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>jeongguk likes pushing yoongi past the place where his thoughts are coherent, and out into the dark warmth beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drift

**Author's Note:**

> this is a repost from my livejournal; it was a tumblr prompt for dom!jeongguk and sub!yoongi. in this particular fic the two of them are meant to have been together for about three years.

Yoongi is drifting, now.

Jeongguk can see it, the way Yoongi's head is tipped back and his breathing is slow, his ribs prettily marked, his nipples swollen and the same pink as his lips. There's a support under his lower back that tips his hips and Jeongguk can see the red marks where his switch welted the sensitive skin around Yoongi's ass, just below his tight ballsac, around the base of the fat plug he has in. It's vibrating. Short and fat and just not enough to make him cum.

He's a vision, really, especially now that the pain of what Jeongguk is doing has stopped being pain and instead become what Yoongi has described to Jeongguk as _pure serenity._ Complete trust, the narrowing of his vision, his psyche, to just this.

Yoongi isn't the only one who feels it.

There is nothing else in the room, for Jeongguk. Just Yoongi, cradled by the concave chair, his head dropped back and his tongue sitting on his pierced lip. Jeongguk traces his fingers over Yoongi's bruises, the red stripes on his torso and thighs. They'll fade by morning, when Jimin and Taehyung are coming over. There will be other times to make new bruises on the inside of Yoongi's legs with the snapping of his hips.

“Yoongi,” he hums, his fingers wrapping around Yoongi's length and stroking. Yoongi arches up from the chair with a throttled gasp and Jeongguk smiles in approval. “Yoongi. Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he breathes. The sound lilts.

“What are your words? Tell me your words, pet.”

“Blue and yellow,” he says. Jeongguk kisses his inner thigh as a reward.

“Very good.” He moves away just enough to get their bottle of lubricant and Yoongi's favorite nipple clamps. He likes them because Jeongguk can hold the chain in his mouth and tug: because they leave Jeongguk's hands free to hold his hips and stroke the hollows of his belly.

“Hold still,” Jeongguk murmurs, easing the rubber-tipped clamps around nipples he'd pumped to swell earlier: Yoongi is helpless when his nipples are being played with. _Helpless._ That was what led the two of them into this relationship in the first place, really. Jeongguk's hands up Yoongi's shirt, watching in fascination as the older man rubbed his dick to completion inside his skinny jeans.

And now, he lets the clamps slide closed and enjoys the way Yoongi groans, sweat on his neck, his chest. “Shh,” Jeongguk murmurs, moving away to palm himself with one slick hand while the other pulls and pushes at the base of the plug to the tune of Yoongi whimpering. “Shhh,” he says, kissing the underside of one thigh and pulling the plug out, appreciating the wet gape and the sound Yoongi makes: inhuman, wailing.

“ _Please._ ”

“You ask so nicely,” Jeongguk murmurs, easing between those spread legs to rub his tip against Yoongi and push, not all the way in. Just enough for the top part of his tip to be inside. “Keep asking. Inch by inch, pet. Ask, and you will receive.”

It's only in this state, half not-here, that Yoongi is able to articulate himself precisely: to tell Jeongguk exactly what he wants, to ask for it.

“Another inch, sir,” he breathes, and Jeongguk pushes his crown inside, baring his teeth and bracing his hands on Yoongi's backside, rubbing the flesh with his thumbs. “A-another.” Jeongguk gives him a half inch. It does something to Yoongi, thinking that he's taking more. He can't take more: they've been over this, that it hurts him, that his body can't handle that kind of pressure but Jeongguk will absolutely play with him this way. There's something in the way Yoongi pants when he feels Jeongguk's body between his thighs.

By the time he's fully inside, Yoongi's dick is twitching and dripping, the sweat is tickling down his throat, chest and belly—catching in his pubic hair, wet when Jeongguk leans forward to curl the chain between his lover's nipples against his tongue.

“Aah!” Yoongi jerks and Jeongguk holds him still, keeps him from squirming off the chair and slowly pulls back, pushes forward. Yoongi's dick is rubbing Jeongguk's belly and Jeongguk's tongue is tugging at the chain. His hands grip Yoongi and the world is just the two of them, caught up in one another and nothing else. “Please fuck love that please _please--”_

“Do you want to cum for me?” Jeongguk asks, and Yoongi whimpers, his cock giving a hard twitch. “Tell me what you want, pet. Ask me. That's all you have to do, ask.”

“I want to cum,” Yoongi whispers, head dropped to one side, cradled on his shoulder. His hands are gripping the back of the chair like it's the only thing tying him to reality. “I want to cum, and I want you to cum on me, Sir.”

“On you?” Jeongguk asks, fingers unsnapping the leather that wraps around the base of Yoongi's cock and behind his balls. “On you, pet? Do you want me to cum on this beautiful ass?”

“Yes sir,” Yoongi breathes, and Jeongguk smirks, wrapping his hand around Yoongi's erection. “Oh--”

“Who does this ass belong to, mm? Tell me pet, and I'll let you cum. I'll let you cum so hard if you tell me who this pretty little ass belongs to. Tell me.”

“Yours, it's yours, it belongs to you, sir--”

“Yes,” Jeongguk purrs, jerking his hand fast and hard. “This ass is mine, pet. And it's perfect. Cum for me.”

Yoongi almost sobs. He cums in thick spurts across his belly, his hips twitching up and down and Jeongguk rides it out before he starts thrusting, smooth and deep.

“Yes, pet, I'm going to cum on you pet, just like you asked, my perfect boy,” he says, pulling out to stroke his orgasm out onto Yoongi's beautifully abused backside, on the raised welts and red skin where he'd been paddled. “Oh _yes,_ Yoongi. Yes.” He rubs his tip in the mess he's left before pushing back inside and reaching to unfasten one clamp, then the other. He smooths his fingers in small circles to ease the pain and he carefully unhooks the bar that's keeping Yoongi's legs bent up into the air. He lets him down and kisses his chest as his dick slips out.

Slowly, so slowly, he eases Yoongi off of the chair and into the nest of blankets just off to one side, where bottles of gatorade and bars of chocolate are waiting for them. Yoongi can't stand on his own and Jeongguk is only barely in better condition, but they make it. On the heated floor, they wrap up in blankets while Jeongguk lets a piece of chocolate melt between their mouths and shares a bottle of gatorade with Yoongi, the kind with a sippy lid. Yoongi falls asleep there on the floor, his head buried in a pillow and Jeongguk's chest. They really should get up, shower and go to bed, but Jeongguk feels safe and comfortable with Yoongi lying there: he feels like he's done well, with Yoongi breathing in at his neck and holding him tightly.

“Night, hyung,” he whispers, kissing Yoongi's hair. He smiles at the happy sigh he gets in return.

 


End file.
